


Count the Stars

by PitchandKozmotis



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Artificial Intelligence, Betrayal, Fearlings, M/M, Manipulation, Memory Loss, nothing is what it seems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitchandKozmotis/pseuds/PitchandKozmotis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 3065. Humanity is under siege by Fearlings and Nightmare Men from across the universe and battles are being waged every minute to stop them. But to Jackson Overland, it’s just another day in New Burgess, struggling to do his best to survive. But one chance encounter with an AI might just change not only his life, but his entire world too. Their lives are about to be tangled in ways they could not possibly imagine. And the Great War is about to become Jack’s war as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Count the Stars

 

_I think, therefore I am._

It really was a sign of how low and pathetic his low and pathetic life had finally become, even more so than usual.

 

He was stuck in a staring contest.

 

With a lifeless dull _machine_.

 

And the damned thing was winning.

 

Jack puffed out his cheeks in a loud obnoxious noise of frustration, glaring at the unresponsive hunk of humanoid ‘metal’ sitting before him, tapping his fingers restlessly against the flimsy instruction manual Aster had sent with the box containing his new AI system, claiming even a scatterbrained idiot like Jack couldn’t make a mess out of this one. Being his fifth AI this month, Jack wasn’t so sure. But it wasn’t his fault! Something always happened with the ones he picked out, systems would malfunction, programs would go haywire, and the whole computer would eventually crash in a week. He simply couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong, no matter how hard he perused the text, something always went very _very_ wrong. But it had probably nothing to do with the fact he couldn’t even find the on switch to his standardized computer. And so he had to deal with Aster’s long suffering sigh each time he swung open the door to his shop. He’d gotten so bad that the other didn’t even need to turn around from his workbench, knowing exactly who had stepped through the door by Jack’s footsteps alone, like he had yesterday.

 

Which brought him back to the robot like machine in front of him.

 

After breaking (unintentionally, he swore!) the central core processor of the old grandmothery unit Aster had given him-totally not because it was freaking him out by the way he’d find it sitting ever so quietly outside the door to his bedroom each morning with a bowl of fruit, a strange glint in its eyes as if it _knew_ something because it totally did no matter how much Aster didn’t believe him-the other had leaned against the counter and stopped his hand from the well worn catalog, forcing Jack to meet his exasperated green eyes.

 

“Look, kid. I can’t keep letting you buy them and then return the same damn models a week later because ‘something went wrong’. I’ve only let it continue this long because Tooth’s your landlady and she’s taken a shine to you, she’s pressured me into helping you out.”

 

Jack let out a poorly disguised snort at that; of course she had pressured him- it was hard to stand up to the hurricane-like force Toothiana was when all five feet of her were bristling and her eyes shone determined with a cause to help the next sob story she heard crawling into her apartment building. Plus, it sort of helped that Aster and her were dating. Just a little.

 

But he really couldn’t say anything bad about her. After all, Tooth had been the only person to take pity on the scrawny and shivering huddled mass of skin and bones under her stairwell. She had whisked Jack up and into her home, where she sat him in front of the fireplace without a second thought. Ever so slowly, she had coaxed his story out of him, of how his family had perished in a mysterious illness that had swept over his small and poor town, left without help out in the middle of nowhere. With no one to turn to and no money to his name, he had been forced to move from town to town in search of a home and work. But with the Great War waging so strongly still, no one wanted to hire an unknown youth with no background or papers to prove who he was. In the end, Jack had ended up in New Burgess, willing and desperate for any kind of job or help.

 

Tooth had given him a small loft up at the top of the crumbling apartment building she rented out to tenants who came and went with the polluted winds. Jack loved to press his face to the grime covered window and gaze down over the entrance, watching avidly the wide and strange variety of people below. It was such a change to be in a large city after his tiny and close-knit town.

 

Aster gave him a suspicious eye, deciding not to call him out on the thinly veiled noise of derision, and pointed to the storeroom of the cramped shop, glowering down at Jack. “Now, if you can’t help but damage everything you touch, I found a very special one for you that you can beat up all you want and I doubt it’ll be easy to break. Go on, take a look. I think you two will get along famously.”

 

Jack rolled his eyes and made his way cautiously to the back room, carefully stepping over screws, strewn metallic compartments and the general oil leaks that coated Aster’s work rooms. He hadn’t been sure what he was expecting but it most _definitely_ wasn’t what he discovered hidden and tucked away behind the boxes of broken down AIs that Aster was fixing up. There, nestled in between the peeling wall and an old partially dismantled robotic torso that Jack tried not to look at for too long-the long and tangled wires coiling out like intestines giving him the creeps-was the oddest looking automan that he had ever seen.

 

A headful of black hair leaning back against the wall with its eyes shut, it had the most curious color of skin: a smoky, ashy grey tint, like it had been smudged crudely over with charcoal by a kindergartener who couldn't’ be bothered to finish the job. Most of the typical household AIs that he had ever been around were made to look like their human counterparts, sometimes disturbingly so in a way that Jack thought crossed too much into the uncanny valley. With variations of pink and yellows and even tans and darker browns in their silicone ‘skin’, one could order practically any color combination ever seen in human pigments-but grey? That was unheard of. The long lean body was clad in standard issue simple black pants and a darker grey tee shirt, bearing well defined muscled arms and upon closer inspection, calloused hands with long fingers that Jack had a sneaking suspicion had a strong and unrelenting grip.

 

“Who owned it?” He asked curiously, slowly approaching in case it happened to turn on and go haywire on him, like AI No. 3 had. He still had nightmares about being forced to eat his vegetables.

 

Aster shrugged and ran a hand through the strands that fell out of his messy pulled back hair. “No idea. Found it, shoved carelessly into an alleyway. I think it must have either been made for a farming hand or factory work. It’s certainly seen its fair share of work judging by the state of its hands and all the burnt marks and scratches I had to buff out.”

 

He carefully folded the automan up, knees to its chest and arms draped across the top of them before lowering it into a box, leaning on the top and grinning at Jack as he tossed him a thin and razor sharp computer chip. Jack deftly caught it and glanced up in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

 

“That’s the new hardware I coded,” Aster explained, drumming his fingers on the cardboard flap of the box. “I figured this was the easiest and had it programmed with all of Tooth’s instructions. There’s absolutely no way it can divert from them.”

 

Jack rolled his eyes, chewing his lip and eyeing the box. “You sure about that? I mean, it’s definitely going to be different. I’ve never had a male one before…”

 

Aster let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “Just because it isn’t a female like the rest doesn’t mean it isn’t able to look after you. That’s all Tooth wants you know,” He amended softly, glancing up at the other who was scowling at the container. “She knows you barely have time to look after yourself and she doesn’t want anything to happen to you, kiddo. Just let her indulge, okay? If this one really doesn’t work or freaks you out, I’ll stop her from suggesting anything else. Deal?”

 

*

 

And so that’s how he came to be wandering out on the streets of New Burgess, carrying a box stuffed with an old, rusting automan and feeling distinctly cheated.

 

Now only if he could figure out how to turn the blasted thing _on_.

 

Jack frowned and tossed the unhelpful manual to the side where it slid among all the various and sundry empty food cartons and clothing items  in varying states of general grossness littered all over the floor. It looked like they were going to do this the hard way.

 

“Alright, Mr. Robot, I’ve had enough of your games,” he murmured, rising to his knees and gently running his fingers over the oddly soft skin, feeling for any kind of indentation to indicate a power button or a switch of any sort. He had already inserted the little microchip into the tiny slit right behind the other’s right ear, wincing as it slid in with a resounding click, swallowing and touching his own head in reflex. But much to his confusion, the AI had refused to switch on and Aster swore he had charged it before he had given it to Jack. So what was the problem? Was there a hidden lever? Jack’s hand slipped during his musings from the slick oily like surface of the clothing Aster had dressed the automan in and he accidentally pressed hard against the other’s chest, leaning forward a bit.

 

Suddenly there was a strange sibilant hissing sound, like someone was slowly pushing air through the opening of a tea kettle and Jack found himself pinned down frozen to his spot on the floor, struck by the intense auric (gold, really? What kind of moron goes and gives an AI golden eyes?) stare that seemed to pierce right through him with no trouble whatsoever, gazing down at him with a cold sneering indifference that couldn’t be right because robots didn’t have _emotions_ , god Jack, get a grip, it’s only been five seconds and it’s already freaking you out-

 

And then its mouth was moving, all grating motion and the click clack of teeth passing over each other, air passing through its lips as it formed words with difficulty as if its cheeks had been bolted shut at one point, a snapping of its jaw sending cold shivers jolting down his spine at the awful foreboding noise despite the rich deep voice that sent tremors through his chest, mimicking human inflections perfectly.

  
  


“I am Pitch Black. Your orders, master?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, it feels so good to get back into this business of breaking your little hearts  
> *grins*  
> Make sure you guys go and give my co-author some loving, it's her first story in this fandom and I'm so excited to be working with her! Plus, she drew the illustration of Pitch for this chapter~  
> And if any of you are interested, check out the theory that the chapter is named after!


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